Burn Baby Burn
by QTR
Summary: Catherine has been burned by love before. But when she experiences true compassion can she find the courage to love again before it's too late? CathSara. Cath's POV. COMPLETE.
1. On Fire

**Title: Burn Baby Burn**

**Summary: Catherine has been burned by love before. But when she experiences true compassion can she find the courage to love again before it's too late?**

**Rating: T (may change in later chapters)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own CSI, its characters or any of its affiliates. I can only dream about Cath and Sara hooking up unfortunately.**

**A/N: This is a Catherine/Sara story I'm very excited to write. No oneshot this time, multi-chapter :D**

**Prologue**

"_Women can fake orgasms but men can fake entire relationships."- Sharon Stone_

I have been burned by love and once that happens to you you're not so sure you'll ever be able to feel that way about someone ever again. But then Sara blew up at me in the lab and that night we went out for drinks to talk, just the two of us.

I spent half the night biting my tongue so I wouldn't just say what was really on my mind. I don't know if I was hoping she'd open up because of the alcohol or what, but the next thing I knew we were stumbling through her apartment blindly searching for the bedroom. There was a scent of lavender and vanilla and I landed on something soft before passion consumed me.

Now with Eddie, I used to have to fake it while he was panting and snorting like a dog thirsty for water. That night was the most sexually invigorating experience I've ever had. Sara Sidle gave me three of the most powerful orgasms I've ever had one on top of the other.

I didn't even know you could _do_ that.

She made me feel important, she made me feel loved. And somewhere along the line, between our ragged breathing and that sexy grunt of hers I heard an 'I love you'.

How can I not say the same to someone who makes me feel so loved, so needed? It's a fear I've kept with me throughout the years and tried to avoid like the plague. I love Sara but I'm not ready to say it.

And now I may never have the chance.

**TBC**


	2. Flames of Desire

**Special thanks to Janet. She knows why. Oh boy _does _she…**

**A/N: Thank you all for the reviews! This chapter starts from the very beginning of Catherine and Sara's relationship and the next chapters will also lead up to the point in the prologue. I hope you guys enjoy it!**

What the hell am I doing? And no Cath, don't say nothing because it's not nothing… oh god _what am I doing?_

I'm in the car right now on my way to some sleazy bar off the Strip to have drinks with Sara. Sara- yes, that Sara, the same Sara that just blew up at me at the lab. The same Sara I've been trying to figure out for years, the same Sara that sends shivers down my spine every time she smiles. That Sara Sidle.

I don't know how I managed to get her to agree to this because if I've learned one thing about her over the years it's that she's stubborn. I was expecting to have to roll my eyes and get on my hands and knees begging her to just say yes so we could work everything out. She didn't sound irritated on the phone. Actually, she sounded… distant. Her voice had been void of emotion.

God, what's wrong with me? I should be angry with her for what she said to me, and… yet… I think I'm concerned.

I somehow manage to park without actually paying any attention to what I'm doing. Turning my head I discover that Sara's Denali is parked just across the street from where I'm sitting right now. I feel some sort of feeling as I get out of the car and lock it up- nervousness, maybe? I've done this before. I can't be nervous and I definitely can't be _shy_.

With a sigh I compose myself and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, walking through the doors to the bar. There's not many people inside- a few people sitting in the stools at the front and a few tables occupied. But no Sara. Walking further through the building I finally spot her off to the corner in a booth, keeping to herself and sipping a beer.

Why is she always alone? Doesn't she realize that she can have anyone she wants? She's gorgeous and yet she doesn't realize it. And I definitely haven't seen someone with a body that nice since I saw those young girls walk the stage all those years ago when I was still dancing.

I walk over to her and pause a short distance away, just glancing at her face. She looks… empty. Like she hasn't even realized I'm here yet but I'm standing just in front of her. She makes no acknowledgement, staring at the wall as she sips her beer like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

I move forward and sit down, following her gaze to the wall. There wasn't anything special about it.

"Are you just going to stare at me all night or say something?"

I blink, her voice catching me off-guard as I turn and look over at her. She shoots me a wry smile and I'm felt with this familiar warmth when I see that adorable gap between her teeth. "I was wondering if you were going to stare at the wall all night or act like you saw me," I reply.

She turns and looks at me, momentarily setting her beer off to the side, as if finally acknowledging that I'm here. "You look really nice."

Again, I'm caught off guard but this time I feel my cheeks turning a light shade of red. Drunk, she must be drunk, I tell myself. Remember? She was here before me. I have no way of knowing how many beers she's ha—

"Look," she sighs and leans back against the booth, looking at me with those piercing brown eyes of hers. "I know why you called me here, and I'm sorry. Is that what you want to hear?"

She makes it sound so simple, but it much more complicated than that. "An apology isn't the only reason I called you here, Sara," I tell her. She looks like she always does when someone tries to penetrate one of the walls she's put up and I don't want that look. That's the look Lindsey gives me. As she reaches for her beer again I gently grab it from her hand, pulling it away. "I'm worried about you," I truthfully tell her.

I will never forget the look she gives me. She looks like she's just been shot, and I don't know if that's good or bad. "Did Grissom tell you to say that?" she asks me. I can tell she's trying her hardest to sound sarcastic but I can see her anxiously running her tongue over her front teeth.

"No," I tell her. "I haven't heard from Gil since last shift." She looks at me, now with her full attention. "I really am worried about you, Sara. We all are. This isn't like you. I don't know what's going on, but if you just tried to talk to one of—"

"I can't," she replies in a tone almost nothing above a whisper. I've never seen her like this before. "I can't, don't you understand that?" she asks me.

"No, I don't, Sara," I push, "I don't, that's the problem."

"Things will be a lot better if you don't understand, Cath," she tells me, "Ignorance is bliss. You have your own things going on, work, your daughter…" there's a hint of sadness to her tone, "Just let me deal with this. It's a problem I have, and I'm working on it."

I'm starting to get a little impatient now. She's mastered Gil Grissom's 'art of saying something without actually saying anything' technique. It's starting to piss me off. "For god's sake, Sara, if you just opened up you wouldn't have to deal with it alone. I have my own issues I'm dealing with but you know what the difference between you and me is?" I ask her. She doesn't reply. "It's that I'm talking to someone about it, and I'm getting through it. I can't do it alone and neither can you."

"Well we're two different people, Catherine," she tells me, shaking her head, "I don't have a whole network of friends, a whole support group I can go to for help."

"I'm right here, Sara," I tell her, leaning forward, pleading now, "So talk to _me_."

"I can't!" she tells me with wide eyes, "Why can't you understand that? I can't!"

"What the hell is there to understand, Sara?" I finally snap. I've had enough; I'm not letting her slide tonight. She's going to tell me something whether she wants to or not. "Because right now you're acting like Lindsey when she doesn't get her way, except you drink alcohol to try and forget about whatever it was that happened to make you this way. Whenever someone tries to make you open up, you shut us away and use your sarcasm to piss off your superiors," I continue, "That's what I can't understand!"

She stares at me for a long moment, and I can tell I've pushed her too far. She's biting her lip to keep in some sort of remark and her eyes are glistening with tears. Jesus I'm an idiot.

"Sara…" I start, but she interrupts me by reaching into her pocket and ripping out a twenty dollar bill, throwing it down on the table and sliding out of the booth.

"Help yourself," she mutters to me, "It's on me. Alcohol's just great to drown your sorrows in; I know that for a fact."

"Sara," I sigh. "Don't do this."

"I'm not doing anything, Cath," she tells me, already backing up toward the exit of the bar, "I'm just making your life easier. You shouldn't have to deal with the insecure alcoholic, right?" she asks me, throwing her arms up in the air, "No one should! Maybe I'll just go home and drink myself silly."

I get up after her, now both angry and worried. She's acting absolutely ridiculous but she only does this when something is wrong. I ignore all the other people in the bar who are staring at us as I walk after her, "Sara, where are you going?"

"I'm going home," she informs me, throwing the front door of the bar open and storming out, "And don't even _think_ of following me becau—"

Something overcomes me and I push her against the side of my car before she can go any further, effectively pinning her in place. She looks just as shocked as I do but I doubt just as aroused. "Sara, listen to yourself," I try to keep my mind full of coherent thoughts, "You're being ridicu—"

I'm cut off by the sensation of soft lips pressed against mine and before I can comprehend what's going on she's kissing me. I try to pull away but she pulls me closer, seeking entrance into my mouth with I hesitantly grant. What the hell is going on?

"Sara," I mumble against her mouth, trying to push her away, "What—"

"Shh," she tells me, as she jerks my body toward her, "Whatever you're about to say, don't."

"But Sara, we… we can't…" I break away from the kiss trying to catch my breath again, "What about..."

"What about what?" she huskily asks me, staring me straight in the eyes. If there's ever been a time in my life where I felt horny it's now. God, that look in her eyes is about to drive me insane. Before I can speak again she's pulled me close for another kiss.

"Sara, we can't…" I mumble but I return the kiss with equal fervor, "We can't be doing this…" My brain says we shouldn't but my body is saying otherwise. It's suddenly a very, very warm night.

"Why not?" she whispers into my ear and lets her hot breath hit the back of my neck. I shiver and she slides a hand up my stomach, slowly creeping up my top.

All coherent and rational thoughts have completely left my mind as I stare at her with hazy eyes, my breaths coming out shorter and more erratically. "The car," I tell her. As if reading my mind she opens the backseat door and I shove her inside, jumping in after her and closing the door behind us.

I capture her lips in a kiss as her hands trail down my back, straddling her hips with my legs. This is nothing I've ever felt before. I've been overcome with lust.

We pull away and she stares at me, panting. Just when I think she's about to kiss me again I find myself pinned underneath her. "If we don't stop now we're about to have sex in the backseat of your car," she informs me. "Let's go to my apartment."

"But Sara—" I'm about to protest before I feel her hot hand against me, cupping me through my jeans making me gasp and immediately shut up.

"Let's continue this in the bedroom," she continues, "Meet me there in ten minutes."

I whimper as she moves her hand away and she gets up off of me, opening the right-side door and getting out. She closes the door behind her and doesn't turn back to look at me as she climbs into her own car and drives off.

How am I going to drive like this?

Not thinking too much of it I climb into the driver's seat and start the car up, speeding off after her. I reach her apartment in record time and discover she's waiting for me in a parking space right next to her door. She gets out as I park and as I'm about to follow her to the door she grabs me and pushes me against the wall, brown eyes meeting blue.

"Sara, we really shouldn't…" I groan as her hands trail up and down my sides.

"I may be suspended," she whispers into my ear, "But we're off-shift. They can't take this away from us."

Then she opened the door.

**TBC**


	3. Falling Back In Love

**A/N: Thank you guys for all the reviews, you guys are awesome :D**

I wake up and I'm surrounded by this familiar warmth. I feel arms wrapped around my waist and reach down to gently remove them so I can move. She groans.

"Hey," I whisper. She looks so adorable when she's asleep and I hate to disturb her, especially because I know the things she did to me last night probably exhausted her. I finally succeed in removing her arms and when she finds she can't hold onto me any longer she rolls over so that her back is facing me in defiance. God she's just like Lindsey.

Moving up to get in a more comfortable position, I sit at the top of the bed and gently brush a strand of hair away from her face as I watch her sleep. I've never quite felt this way about anyone before… not about my first boyfriend, or my second… and _definitely_ not Eddie. So what if she's a woman, she's also… the only person in my life who's truly made me feel important. The only person who's ever made me feel loved.

I lean over to pull the sheets further up her body, content with the thought of just laying here with her in bed all day. I have the day off and she's still suspended which is something I never thought I'd be thankful for. As I start to pull the covers up and over her I notice something… something I didn't notice before.

I probably didn't notice it before because I was too damn intoxicated with her last night. I wasn't drunk; I was just… too concentrated on tasting her wine to really think.

I frown as I move the sheets down her bare back and she shivers. I'm about to apologize when I realize what it is I'm looking at. They're scars. Not a few scars, _many_ scars- long ones, short ones, thin ones, fat ones, scars of any shape or size. How did she get these, did… someone hurt her?

As if she's read my mind she rolls over and yawns, cracking open both eyes to gaze up at me. Just staring into her eyes for a minute I've already forgotten what it was I was looking at just moments before. "Hey," she whispers.

"Hey," I smile back, "Good morning."

"Good morning," she yawns back, slowly sitting up. She reaches over onto the nightstand to grab something to tie her hair up with and I catch another glimpse of her back. As she tucks stray strands of auburn hair behind her ears I can see the confusion in her eyes. "What is it?" she asks me.

"Your back…" I softly tell her, "I saw the scars… did someone hurt you, Sara?" There's no way she can deny it now or make up some lame excuse. I _saw_ them with my own two eyes. I'm no medical expert but I can tell they're more than a few years old.

She stares at me for a minute, her gaze piercing right through me as I watch her retreat back into her little psychological shell. There's that damn lip-biting of hers again. I can't take it anymore.

"Sara, please," I whisper, "Don't lie to me anymore… I'm not trying to make things worse for you; I just want to know so I can help you…"

"Why?" she asks me, "It's not like you love me."

"Sara," I sigh. I would say I love her but I'm just not ready to make such a big decision yet. I can feel something there between us… so why can't I say anything? Am I too afraid to love again? "Look, there's something between us, I'm not denying that," I explain. "I haven't had the best experiences in the field of love, so… I'm not ready to say it yet. But there's something here, and I definitely care about you…"

She nods slowly, but I can tell she's not exactly satisfied. Slowly, however, her shell begins to melt. "…Promise to keep this between us?" she asks me in a whisper, the pain etched on her face. Oh we're treading in some dark waters now, folks.

"Of course, Sara," I tell her, "I won't tell anyone else."

"Not even Grissom," she says, "I told him part of the story because he pushed me but not all of it…"

"I won't tell Gil," I agree. "This stays between us."

Finally she looks satisfied and she moves to get comfortable, bringing her knees up to her chest. "My family wasn't exactly like other families," she starts, "Not some happy-go-lucky Mickey-Mouse-Club house members without any troubles in the world. They tried to deny it all they wanted but I knew," she slowly looks down at the bed sheets, refusing to make eye contact, "I knew," she whispers.

I decide not to say anything about it and let her stay in her comfort zone. "Well I thought my family was out-there, what with my mom being a showgirl and all…"

"Your mother did that to support you, didn't she?" she bluntly asks me.

"All of us," I tell her.

She nods and bites her lip, looking back down at the sheets like it was the answer she was expecting. "My family's motivation and morals will… forever be a mystery," she says with some sort of a half-smile, "I couldn't buy my own clothes because they made me look like a tramp but my father could go out every night and drink himself silly if he wanted to."

I cautiously move toward her, wanting to comfort her and let her know I'm here but respecting her space.

"Everything started to go downhill after my parents' B&B went out of business," Sara continues, "The bills started coming in, the money stopped coming in. We ended up having to live in a hotel for a while before we could finally afford a house with the help of my mother's parents."

I nod slowly to let her know I'm listening. Suddenly she breaks the silence we've eloped into and laughs.

"They really were a piece of work, you know that?" she asks me. "We got it shut down because the customers were scared to come back. My… father always had a bad temper," she says, "That combined with the alcohol made… every night a living hell."

I shoot her a sympathetic look, trying to restrain myself from pulling her into an embrace.

"He started hitting us when I was about seven," she whispers.

I can even feel my eyes widen as she says this.

"He wasn't my father anymore, he was a monster, and I tried so hard to accept it, I really did," she shoots me the saddest of smiles as she puts a hand over her mouth, trying her hardest not to start crying. "But... after every beating, every night I assumed one day he would stop and just… go back to his old self. Needless to say he didn't," she whispers.

"Sara," I softly tell her, reaching a hand out toward her now, "Honey its okay to cry…" I tell her. I know she hates looking weak but she doesn't understand that it's not a sign of weakness. It's humanism.

Sniffling back the tears that are about to fall down her face she's determined to finish her story, "One night he came home and there wasn't any beer left in the fridge," she whispers, "He had drank it all the night before and didn't tell my mom so she didn't know to go out and buy more. I was sitting at the kitchen table doing my homework. I tried to ignore him, but my father was the type that doesn't exactly make it easy to tune him out."

Finally I succeed in putting a hand on her shoulder and I gently rubbing up and down her back.

"He pushed me through a window," she whispers. "I guess the scars never healed that well, huh?" she offers a weak laugh and I can tell she's about to break.

"Oh Sara," I whisper. I had no idea she had to deal with all of that… and at such a young age. How has she managed to keep it in this long? I finally pull her toward me before she can say anything against it and to my surprise me buries her shaking frame in my arms, letting her tears fall for once in her life. "I'm so sorry you had to deal with all of that on your own," I whisper, gently rubbing up and down her back with my hand, trying my hardest not to stare at any of the offending scars. Every time I catch a glance I just want to hold her and never let go.

"My mother killed him on my thirteenth birthday," she tells me between her cries, "And I saw everything, every goddamned thing!"

"Oh Sara," I only hold onto her tighter now as she starts crying even harder, "What happened?"

"She stabbed him," she whispers, "She stabbed him, and she just kept stabbing him over and over and over again… and I can't remember everything, Cat," she whispers, "The smell of the air, the color of the sky that night, the image of the knife as it…" I can feel her start to gag and I move away just in time to grab the trash bin for her as she empties the contents of her stomach.

"It's okay, honey," I gently tell her as I rub her back. "It's okay, just let it out…"

"Oh Cath!" she throws herself against me completely broken down in tears and I immediately wrap my arms around her body, running my fingers through her soft brown hair and rubbing her back to try and calm her down.

"Shh," I tell her, "Shh… its okay, Sara," I whisper, "It's okay now…"

After a few moments of consoling her I come to find she's fallen back to sleep. Well it's a good thing we don't have to go to work today. I watch her drift back off to sleep with a smile, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath until it slows down as she finally succumbs to sleep. It's then I realize that this is where I want to be- tomorrow, the next day and a year from now. And it makes me realize just how stupid I was that I wasn't lying here years before.

I look down at her as she buries her face in the crook of my neck and I lean down to grab the sheets, pulling them up and over her body to which she lets out a happy sigh in response.

Sara Sidle, I think I love you.

**TBC**


	4. Old Scars

**A/N: Thanks all for your reviews:)**

I wake up and it doesn't take me long to remember that I'm lying in Sara's bed. In Sara's apartment. With Sara.

Her scent is pouring off of the sheets and now I suddenly realize why she always smells so good all the time. I look down at her as continues to sleep soundly against my chest and I smile as I gently run my fingers through her soft hair. I'm content with just the thought of lying here all day with her, I don't care if I never get up as long as I'm here and she's there.

She lets out a sigh and shifts positions so that she's facing away from me before she falls back to sleep and I wrap two protective arms around her waist as she had done to me before. I can feel her try and mold her body against mine so to help her I pull her toward me until our bodies are once again touching. She responds with a happy sigh and that's all the thanks I need.

Twirling a strand of brown hair around my index finger I just watch her sleep. She's been sleeping soundly all this time except for the few times I've had to snap her out of a nightmare or two. They sounded like horrible nightmares… I've woken up Lindsey in the middle of the night when she was younger and even looked under the bed for the ugly purple people-eating monster but I've never heard of anything that sounded so haunting before in my entire life.

…except from victims in the interrogation room.

It's a good thing her father's dead, now, I decide because if he wasn't when I got through with him he was going to wish he was.

I look back down at her and I catch a glimpse of her back. I try my hardest to look away but it's one of those things you can't bare to look at but at the time same you're captivated. But this time, not captivated in the good way.

I reach a hand out toward her and hover just above her back ever-so tempted to touch one of the adorning scars on her skin. I want to and at the same time I want to respect her privacy and space. I know Sara's a very private person. Why else wouldn't she have told any of us what she told me earlier in all the years she's worked with us?

My eyes continue to scan her back up and down, my anger only growing with each new scar I see. How could anyone ever—

"Which ones are you looking at now?" God how does she always know what I'm doing?

"You know you're starting to scare me with that mind-reader thing," I inform her.

She shoots me that smile of hers as she sits up keeping herself covered in the sheets as she leans against the headboard to sit upright. "I'm sorry I was staring, though, it just…"

"Makes you wonder how people can do such a thing," she finishes for me and shoots me a small smile.

"Yeah…" I start and I try not to smile because the topic isn't funny let alone uplifting but that smirk of hers finally makes me laugh. "Seriously, that's starting to get scary!"

"I'm sorry," she giggles. No she's not. But that's okay. "I don't mind if you look at them, just… please don't tell anyone else?" she asks me as she turns around so I can look at the scars again.

I shoot her the smallest of smiles, "Of course not, Sara. It's no one else's business."

"Thanks," she sighs and I can see her try to look at me from the corner of her eye. "So go ahead- take your pick."

I don't exactly like the way she worded that but I choose not to push the issue as I gently brush her hair out of the way setting it off to one side. My eyes pick a rather small faded one at the arch of her shoulder bone. "What happened here?" I softly ask her, placing my palm over it.

She closes her eyes in remembrance. "That was from the window, too."

I frown as my hand automatically moves to another- bigger this time- around her left side near her ribs. "And this one?"

"I fell down the stairs." God how can she be so sarcastic over something like this!

"I'm looking for the real answer, not what you told the doctor at the ER,"I tell her, not amused.

"Alright, I was _pushed_ down the stairs," she amends, "Happy now?"

"Why?" I barely whisper. I want to know what she had to go through as a child that hurt her so much. I want to be there for her so I can take away her pain.

Instantly I feel her tense against my hand yet I refuse to move it away. "The only day in my life I've ever been late for school."

"_Dad, come on!" Sara ushered him outside as he busily worked to sneak some scotch into his morning coffee without his wife seeing. "I'm going to be late and I have a test today, my teacher's going to be mad!"_

_He chuckled heartily as her feeble attempts at pulling him away from the door by his jacket barely made him move an inch. "Just hang on, Sara; you won't be late."_

"_How do you know?" Sara asked, crinkling her face up as she smelled the alcohol now mixed with his morning-coffee breath. _

"_Because have I ever made you late?" he asked her, kneeling down next to her with his coffee mug in his hand. He ruffled her hair and laughed as she shot him a look before giving in._

"_No, you haven't," she agreed. "So come on, Dad! Let's go!"_

"He was trying to sneak some of his secret stash of scotch into his morning coffee," Sara continues, "He hid it from my mother in an old chest he kept underneath their bed. In truth I wasn't really going to be late for school that day, I just… wanted to see my dad," she whispers. I wrap a gentle arm around her shoulders. "He was always working and I never got to see him… and when my mother was home she just talked about how horrible he was."

"_Alright, Sara," he told her. "Daddy just needs to get his wallet and then we'll be off."_

_She followed him through the house as he walked into the living room and retrieved his wallet and car keys, taking another sip of his coffee-and-scotch concoction. "Ready?" she asked him._

"_Ready," he smiled. He turned to walk away and swerved a little, catching himself on the couch and laughing. "Almost lost my footing, there!"_

_Sara frowned, following him into the kitchen toward the front door. "Dad, I really wish you wouldn't drink so much… it smells bad."_

"_Don't worry about it, sweetheart," he shot her a smile that instantly warmed her heart. He never called her 'sweetheart'. Just as they were about to walk out the door the bedroom door opened and a very angry Laura Sidle came busting through the building. _

"Mom hated him for drinking but the truth was she drank just as much as he did, maybe more," she laughs at this. "I loved my father… he was my best friend. My mother always wanted a daughter she could raise _her_ way. She was jealous that I wasn't as close with her so she took it out on him," she whispers.

"That's horrible…" I tell her, slowly moving closer to her on the bed.

"_Drinking?" Laura asked, putting her hands on her hips as she came into the kitchen. "Drinking, John? How is that possible? I threw out all the alcohol in the house last night!"_

"_Sara, go outside," John told her. Sara obeyed and walked outside, not wanting to make eye contact with her infuriated mother._

"_And on the way to driving our daughter to school, John!" she wailed, throwing her arms up in the air. "Why don't you just strap her to the hood of the car and drive her to school that way?"_

"_I can drink whenever I damn well please, it's not illegal," John shot back, "And don't act like you care about Sara, you've never given a damn about—"_

"_I was the one who raised her while you were out getting drunk! So don't you ever tell me—"_

"It was ruined," she whispers, shaking her head as she fights back tears, "My morning with my father was ruined again… as usual. I… I was upset," she whispered. "I never got to see my parents for who they really were, I only got to see them when they were fighting with each other. I was… I was fed up with it!"

"_She's terrified of you, Laura, don't you see that?" he countered. "Your own daughter is scared of you!"_

"_Well what do you think she thinks of you, John?" Laura asked. "When you come home smelling like the head of a beer and decide you want to smack us around a little? You know she hides out in her room everyday just to avoid—"_

"They were using me as excuses!" Sara practically screams and I feel and see how angry she is. I wrap my arm tighter around her to try and comfort her and calm her down some. "She acted like she cared… and she didn't… and I know my father wasn't innocent but I actually felt like he cared!" she whispers.

"Oh Sara," I begin to gently rock her back and forth in my lap.

_Having enough of them using their daughter as excuses Sara ran up the old creaky stairs of their bed and breakfast. "STOP IT!" she screamed at the top of her lungs._

_They stopped but not for long. "See, John? What kind of environment are you raising our daughter in?" Laura asked._

"_SHUT UP!" Sara screamed her eyes stinging with unshed tears. "Both of you just shut UP! I'm tired of you two using me as an excuse so you can win your stupid arguments! I'm tired of you both acting like you care about me! I'm tired of you two being drunk before I even leave the house in the mornings!"_

"_You little bitch," Laura hissed, throwing the door open and slapping her across the face. "I thought you were on my side!" Sara could smell the bitter alcohol on her breath._

"_Mom, stop it!" Sara screamed, the tears finally making their way down her face. "I know what's going on, so stop it! You can't hit me to shut me up anymore!"_

"And… I even surprised myself," Sara whispered as I gently rub the skin on her cheek her mother had struck with her filthy hands. "I thought I was finally going to take a stand… and maybe tell the cops what the hell was going on."

"_So stop lying to me! Mom, you didn't throw out the beer, I can smell it! Dad, quit hiding your scotch or I'll burn it, I swear to god!"_

"_What the hell kind of lies have you been putting into her head?" Laura hissed, her eyes flashing in anger from Sara to her husband._

"_No… no, Sara sweetheart you wouldn't burn it, would you?" John asked his eyes wide as he stumbled toward her. The alcohol he had that morning was finally starting to catch up with him. "You wouldn't…"_

"_Daddy, I will," Sara whispered, slowly backing away. The look in his eyes was starting to scare her. "If… if you and Mom don't stop fighting I'm going to burn it!"_

"_You wouldn't… burn Daddy's special stash, would you?" he whispered, dropping to his knees in front of her, "Please, Sara… you wouldn't…"_

"_Daddy, I have to!" Sara told him, starting to cry even more in frustration. _

"He was a good manipulator," she whispers as I gently rub my hand up and down her back. "And this time I wasn't going to bite…"

"Good for you," I whisper to her.

"But… I had to!"

"_If you and Mom don't stop fighting I have to, Daddy!" Sara told him, looking at him with tear-stained eyes. "I'm sorry!" she ran to him and threw her arms around his legs as she began to cry._

_She felt his firm hands on her shoulders before she felt nothing under her feet and tumbled backwards down the stairs._

I clench my fist so hard my knuckles start to groan in protest which brings me back to reality.

"He was so sorry afterwards," Sara whispered, "They took me to the hospital…"

"Sara, I'm so sorry," I whisper, not bothering to hide my tears from her as she turns and looks at me.

"Cath, I was so scared," she whispers as she buries her tear-stained face against my chest, "I was so scared, and… and the cops showed up, and I panicked and I lied!"

"Shh," I whisper to her, still gently rubbing her back with my hand, the other tangled in her brown hair. "Shh… it's okay now…"

"I just said the first thing that came to mind," she cries, "And—"

"Shh," I tell her again, shaking my head, "It's okay, Sara… it's okay now…"

After a few minutes she's calmed down and she sits up, wiping her tears away with her hands. "Thanks," she tells me with a small smile.

"For what?" I smile back and help her wipe away the remaining tears. "Come on, go take a bath. I just want to be lazy today, how does that sound to you?"

"Great," she grins.

"Well great," I grin back, "I see… pizza, movies and beer in our future. Sound good to you?"

"That sounds perfect," she smiles. As I move to get to my feet she wraps her arms around me in another embrace.

"Thanks, Cath. Really."

I smile back and return the hug. "Don't mention it, Sara," I tell her before getting to my feet in search of clothes. "I'll go out and get everything while you stay here and take a long—" She's about to protest but I beat her to it, "Luxurious, scented bath." Before she can say anything against it I'm already leading her into the bathroom. "With bubbles," I whisper into her ear.

She groans and I know I've won. "Good, that's what I thought," I smile at her before turning back around. "I'm going to borrow some of your clothes, Sara!" I call over my shoulder.

"Knock yourself out," she replies.

I smile as I hear the faucets for the bath tub turn on.

**TBC**


	5. Cinderella

**A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews guys! **

After grabbing a six-pack of beer, some paper plates so Sara wouldn't have to worry about the mess we were going to make at her own apartment, some napkins and an entire library's worth of movies I drove back toward her apartment complex after making one last stop at the pizza place. One large vegetarian pizza, Sara doesn't eat meat. I smile to myself at my ability to remember such things.

When I arrive at her apartment I grab the pizza and beer in one hand and the movies and paper-and-plastic utensils in the other, heading to the front door. After opening the front door and setting everything down in the kitchenette, I hear the faucets in the bathroom turn off. She actually listened to me- she _did_ take a long bath!

Sighing and heading down the hallway, I poke my head inside the bathroom just in time to catch a glimpse of her perfect, naked ass. Her sweet, sweet ass.

"CATH!"

I merely blink as she scrambles to cover herself up in the towel she brought in with her and I can't help but laugh. "What? It's not like I've never seen it before, you know."

"There is a little thing called privacy, you know," she mumbles with that sarcastic tone to her voice.

"Yeah, that's what Lindsey always tells me," I smile innocently at her. God she's adorable.

Finally she can't help it any longer and starts laughing. "Okay, you got me. At least let me go get dressed before you get any ideas."

"Why? You won't be wearing anything for long," I tease as she pushes past me and heads down the hallway to her bedroom. She shoots me a look before disappearing around the corner.

_Don't look at me like that,_ I want to tell her, _you're the one who acted crazy last night._

I would say it out loud except it was the best sex I've ever had in my entire life, so why should I be complaining?

"I got a six-pack of beer, do you think that'll be enough?" I call over my shoulder as I walk back into the kitchenette.

"That depends," she calls back and I can hear her moving through the drawers in her room looking for clothes, probably her pajamas, "What kind of movie did you get?"

"Comedy, drama, action, romance, horror…" I name off the list. I wasn't sure so I just brought the entire store with me. "What're you in the mood for?"

She emerges from around the corner in an old worn-out gray tank top, some loose threads hanging at the sides complete with a faded pair of pajama bottoms. The stripes on them are barely visible now. How long has she had those things?

"I was thinking something light-hearted, I've had enough drama for one day," she tells me, but I do not hear her. She's not wearing a bra. I mean it _is_ her home, but… "See something you like?"

Now _that_ I caught.

"Yes," I coyly reply, walking back over to the kitchenette to where the pizza boxes are sitting. "I got vegetarian, don't worry," I smile over at her once I notice her studying the pizza boxes like pieces of evidence.

"Oh I trust you, don't worry," she smiles back, coming up behind me and resting her head on my shoulder. My body tingles at the warmth emanating from hers as she slowly wraps her arms around my waist.

"Watch your hands," I tease her although quite frankly I don't give a damn where her hands are so long as they're on me at all times.

"I didn't think you'd really mind," she grins at me as she reaches over and grabs a slice of pizza for herself, putting it on a paper plate before grabbing a beer from the six-pack and heading over to the couch.

"Of course I don't," I wink over at her as I grab a piece of pizza for myself as well as a beer before grabbing the bag of movies and following her to the couch. "Alright," I sigh as I sit down and hand her the bag. "Lindsey's going to wonder why I never rent this many movies for her."

"You didn't have to get this many you know," Sara laughs as she starts to look through them for something that piques her interest. I've always sort of thought of Sara as an action/science-fiction type of person.

I practically drop my pizza as I reach over and touch her face with my hand. I don't know what's come over me but I just want to feel her… touch her. I have this overwhelming temptation and I'm not fighting it. "I spoil you, you know," I whisper to her and she looks over at me with those stinging brown eyes.

She leans into my touch and closes her eyes, letting out a sigh. I can't believe she's never realized how beautiful she really was, she looks like an angel now- the light is hitting her face just right, her eyes are twinkling, her smile is glowing and her skin is vibrant. Before I know it the pizza has been completely forgotten about and she's lying sideways on the couch with her head resting against my chest.

"You're so cute," I whisper to her, gently brushing my thumb against her cheek. She smiles.

"It's not cute, it's just me being lazy," she whispers back.

"I still think it's cute," I tell her, moving my hand down to her back as she sighs and moves closer.

"Then this is cute too right?" she asks. And she situates herself right in my lap, the little brat. But I don't care. I like her right there.

I laugh as she makes herself right at home. "Yeah," I softly tell her, running a hand through her drying hair, "It is. I like having you there."

"I like being here," she tells me with a smile.

And so the movies and pizza as well as the beer- which perhaps was a good thing- are completely forgotten about as I find myself cuddled up on the couch with Sara in my lap, looking like she's about to fall asleep as I gently stroke her hair in my fingers. For the first time in my life I feel content… I feel calm, and I feel at ease. I'm not worried about life. I'm not worried about yesterday, and I'm not worried about tomorrow. I'm not concerned about the past, and I'm not concerned about the future.

I want to live for the now and the now is here, with Sara. Here with Sara in my arms, here _with_ Sara. I'm not worried about Lindsey, I'm not worried about that promotion Ecklie has been pushing on me, I'm not worried about any case I've been working on. I'm happy. I'm loved. And I'm comforted by that fact alone.

I look down at her and watch as she rises and falls with each breath I take. I hate to disturb her… but I feel like Wonder Woman. I feel like I can take on the entire world, and I want to share this feeling with her. Can love really do that to you…? I wouldn't know. Eddie wasn't exactly a good example.

I want to tell her I love her. I don't need anymore time to figure it out.

"Sara?" I whisper as gently as I can. Even though I want to wake her up I don't want to startle her.

"Mm… what is it, Cath?" she mumbles as she nuzzles herself against my chest. I can't help but smile.

"I love you," I whisper, still gently moving my hand against her back. There's silence for a moment and I'm about to worry before she slowly raises herself up and looks at me.

"…Really?" she whispers, looking deep into my eyes for the truth. The truth is there, Sara… and I'm not lying to you.

"Really," I reply with a smile. "I've… never felt this way before about anyone, it's funny… I feel like Cinderella and I'm getting to go to the ball. For the first time in my life, I'm… content, Sara. That's a big step for me. I've always had something to worry about… my mother, Lindsey, work. I always thought that I would crack under the pressure. I honestly can't believe I've managed to keep it together all this time. And finally…I've found someone to fit that glass slipper. And that person's name is Sara Sidle."

There's a thick silence in the air again, and before I even have time to say anything else I can see the glistening of tears in her eyes. Oh god, I made her cry.

"I'm sorry, Sara," I whisper, drawing her back into my arms, "I didn't mean to make you cry…"

She lets out a sob that came from the heart as she throws her arms around my mid-section. "God, don't apologize," she whispers, "I'm not upset… I'm… I'm just so happy!"

"Well then that makes two of us," I whisper to her, gently rubbing her back with my hand. If she keeps crying she's going to make _me_ cry.

"I've never had a real relationship before," she whispers, trying to calm her tears enough to form a coherent sentence, "All my relationships have been me lying to myself… I've never had a steady mutual relationship before. I've… always been that person that was fucked and then kicked to the curb," she whispers before another wave of tears begins again.

I can feel the tears falling down my own face and I'm not going to bother to try and hide them as I hold her tighter, a protective arm moving around her waist. "I don't see how anyone could ever do that to you, Sara," I whisper, "But I promise… that I will never, ever do something like that to you. I love you too much for that."

"I love you too!" she wails as she continues to cry against my chest, "I love you too, and I won't ever hurt you again," she whispers, "All the stupid things I've said to you in the past… I'm sorry Cath. I've never wanted to hurt you."

"You didn't, Sara," I softly tell her, "You never hurt me… and I'm sorry for the things I've said to you too… I had no clue what was going on."

But we both do now.

After the tears have begun to subside, we just sit there for about ten minutes lying in each other's arms. That's good enough for me.

"You're a fan of cuddling, aren't you?" I whisper to her.

She laughs as she wipes up the remainder of her tears, snuggling back up against me. "Yeah. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine… it's just that… men don't cuddle," I grin.

She laughs again. "You know they say men fall asleep right after sex."

I groan, trying to block the mental image of Eddie snoring and grunting and drooling and snorting from re-entering my mind. Too late. "Don't even get me started."

She shoots me a knowing grin and I can't help but laugh. She knows. She always knows.

"You know, Cath…" she starts, playing with the bracelet on my arm. She doesn't finish her sentence.

"What is it?" I ask her, shooting her a smile.

She smiles back before she stops playing with my bracelet and sits upright. Getting to her feet, I frown at the sudden loss of warmth from her until she sits back down until she's straddling my lap with her own, the tips of our noses just touching. I could get used to this. "What?" I whisper again.

She slowly leans forward so that I can feel her hot breath against my lips. "I believe I'm going to kiss you now if you don't stop me," she whispers.

"Why would I _ever_ want to stop you?" I whisper before her lips curl in a smile and I'm captivated by all things Sara.

**TBC**


	6. Redemption For Innocence

**A/N: Thanks again everyone for the great reviews, they make my day :D I apologize if the Latin translation in this chapter is incorrect. I'm not fluent in any other language other than English so I had to look the translation up on the internet.**

Oh my god her skin is so smooth. I don't even think she puts on lotion regularly, this is natural. Those years of working in San Francisco really did her body well- she has a nice even healthy tan along her arms and legs. And for goodness sake she smells like vanilla, why can't I be this lucky? She's such a natural beauty. I've always noticed she doesn't wear a lot of make-up. She doesn't need it.

So I've been laying here next to her in her bed for about an hour now just to watch her sleep. I can't help it, she's just so… captivating. She hasn't moved a muscle but I don't blame her; I can't believe we managed to actually make it to the bedroom last night before one of us starting shouting out strings of curse words. She's absolutely amazing.

She never ceases to surprise me, and even now, just watching her sleep, I'm fascinated. She sleeps almost like an infant, curled up in a tight little ball, knees drawn up to her chest, her arms folded over one another resting under her head. Her chest rises and falls with each steady breath she takes and I can't help but notice the torn button on her blouse that's just barely hanging on by a string. I guess I got a little rough last night.

But Sara… Sara's touch is so gentle, so loving. She makes me feel like the sexiest woman on the face of the earth. She's always telling me how beautiful I am, or how good my hair smells, how smooth my skin feels. I never got little comments like that from Eddie. He had such a small range of phrases and vocabulary, the norms being "Come on, just one more", "At least act like you're enjoying it", and my personal favorite, "What the hell are you doing reading a book?"

I _did_ have work the next day. I usually just chose to let him have his fun.

I swear to God, Eddie gave a new meaning to the phrase "Wham, bam, thank you, Ma'am." Although I don't ever recall there being a thank you with Eddie. He always ripped my bras clean off and never gave me any money to buy more. Those were my _dancing _clothes.

But Sara's such a gentle, loving person- and polite at that. She's the sort of person who tries their hardest not to stare at your chest and look at your face even when you're giving her a strip tease and she can't move a muscle. Eddie was the complete opposite. And even though Sara may be gentle, she's demanding and powerful at the same time. I like that.

My index finger is currently tracing along the small of her back as I rest my head on her shoulder. She's still out like a light. I never thought I would be grateful that she was suspended, but now I am. She desperately needs the rest. I wouldn't mind taking off today, either. I just want to be with her, and as much as I hate to admit it, I am tired.

Just as I'm about to get up and look for my cell phone to call into the lab, something catches my eye. A mysterious little something on Sara's lower back. But it's sexy as hell, whatever it is. It definitely got my attention.

Lifting up the sheets with Sara groans in protest to, I raise an eyebrow as she rolls over onto her back allowing me to see what I was looking for. It's a tattoo, and now I wonder why I've never seen it before. It's a pretty good-sized crucifix and underneath it is something written… but I can't read it. It looks like Latin.

"_Redemptio pro insons insontis."_

I never knew Sara was a real religious person. The first word looks like 'redemption' but I'm not sure what the rest is. Just as I'm about to go find my pocket dictionary from the drawer Sara starts to stir and before I know it she's looking me right in the eye.

"God you have _got_ to stop doing that!" I tell her, half jokingly, half not.

She giggles in response and I can't help the smile from crossing my face, her laugh is infectious.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she says, a wry smile playing on her lips.

"I don't get scared," I reply, raising an eyebrow, "But anyway, how did you sleep?"

"Really good, actually," she smiles, "Probably the best sleep I've gotten in a long time." I don't want to guess how long she's talking about. "How about you?"

"Best sleep of my life," I admit and she smiles in response to that, opening her mouth wide with another yawn.

"So what were you looking at?" she asks me. That's really creepy, how does she always know?

"Are you psychic or something?" I can't help but ask.

"No, but I could feel your eyes burning into the back of my head," she grins. "So did you see something you liked, Miss Willows?"

"Yes, I did," I reply, pursing my lips. "And quite frankly, I'm offended. Why didn't you tell me you had tattoos?"

"You didn't ask," she coolly replies. "Besides, I figured you'd find them eventually."

I nod slowly, sneaking another glance at her back. "I saw the one on your back," I tell her. "It's nice. What's the writing say?"

For a moment the room is deathly quiet, but solemnly, almost like someone had died and this was their moment of silence. She straightens up and turns around so I can get a better look at her back. "It says 'Redemption for innocence'," she informs me.

I nod, cupping the skin on her back with my palm and gently caressing it. "Why did you get it?" I ask her. I'm tempted to ask if it's in reference to her parents, but I refrain from doing so.

"It's for everyone," she softly says, "Everyone who's ever died at the hands of another person in cold blood. It's for all the victims we've found at crime scenes, all the people who weren't found in time. All the people who ended up on Doc Robbin's slab…" she whispers. "They may be gone now, but I'll always remember them. They don't deserve to be forgotten. Just because some of them may not have had family doesn't mean they were never cared about, you know?"

That's quite possibly one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard in my entire life.

Sitting up, I move my body so that I'm sitting next to her and I wrap my left arm around her shoulders, pulling her body against my own. "That's beautiful, Sara," I whisper in her ear, "And it just shows how beautiful a person you yourself are… inside and out."

She slowly turns her head and shoots me one of her Sara smiles, the warm glow returning to her face. "Aw shucks, Cath. You're making me blush," she teases.

"Hey!" I laugh and playfully swat at her with my hand. "I was _trying _to be nice, Sara. Maybe I just won't compliment you anymore."

"You can't do that," she shakes her head in protest, "I know you can't."

"Oh?" I ask.

"Yeah," she nods, "You can't stop staring at my ass when I walk past you, I have at least six hickeys on my neck—thanks, by the way—and you think my breasts belong to you."

For a second I think about this and then I shoot her a grin. "They _are_ mine, Sara."

She laughs and shakes her head, resting it against my own, "Whatever you say, Cath," she whispers.

I smile as my hand begins to rub her back as we sit together on the edge of the bed. "So when did you get this tattoo?" I ask her.

"After I started working in 'Frisco," she says, "It didn't take long for the cases to get to me. It's… hard to detach yourself from everything."

I nod my head in understanding. I can't imagine how hard it must have been for Sara.

"After my first rape case, that was it," she shakes her head. "I couldn't stand it anymore."

"How long had you been working there?" I ask her.

She bites the inside of her bottom lip as she looks down at the floor. "Two weeks," she says. "That was it. _Two weeks_, Cath. And you know what the worst part was?" I shake my head. "She didn't have any family. The dad drank himself to death and the mom landed herself in the loony bin. She was an only child. No one came to her funeral. They cremated her. She was just dust in the wind." I start to rub her back a little harder now to provide some sort of comfort. This story sounds similar to Sara's. "She was innocent- never smoked a day in her life, she never drank. She didn't even have any parking tickets."

"I don't understand why people do the things they do anymore," I whisper to her.

"It took me a long time to accept that," she whispers back, shooting me a sad smile. "I just… I wanted to do _something_ for them. I see a part of myself in every victim, male or female. They didn't deserve to die."

She really _is_ amazing.

Leaning over, I turn her head so that she's facing me and I give her a tender kiss on the lips. "Like I said, you're beautiful."

She shoots me a shy smile and I watch as her cheeks slowly turn a rosy shade of red. "I'm going to get another tattoo, you know."

I blink, now quite intrigued, "Where?" I inquire.

"I haven't decided yet," she tells me. "But I'll let you know when I do," she winks.

"Well good, because I like this one a lot," I tell her, sneaking another peek at not only the tattoo but the firm muscles in her back.

"Catherine Willows, quit checking me out," Sara orders.

I shoot her an innocent look but she sees right through that. "Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask her.

"You're not a very good liar," she smirks, getting to her knees to crawl toward me. And as she does I see yet another thing she has yet to show me!

I let out a gasp that probably scared the crap out of her but I ignore it as I reach down and gently but forcefully pull her ankle into my lap. "You didn't tell me you had _another_ one!"

"You didn't ask," she giggles again.

I shoot her a look before looking down at the design on her skin. "A blue sun," I state.

"Yes," she replies, "It's the first one I ever got."

"When did you get this one?" I ask her, once again running my fingers over it.

"I got it when I was 16, actually," she muses, staring up at the ceiling, "Cheap job, but I liked it. I had to get it on my ankle because it was one of the only places I could get it without it showing when I went to work in those stupid uniforms."

"I've been there," I nod, putting her leg back down on the bed. "So are there any other tattoos you're withholding at this time, Miss Sidle?"

"I don't believe there is," she tells me, shooting me a smile. God I could just jump her right now.

I think I will.

I lunge forward and her eyes widen in surprise as I land directly on top of her, holding her in place with my hips. She giggles as she playfully struggles against my grip. "Don't even think about moving, Sara," I tell her, shooting her a smirk of my own, "I'm not letting you go."

"But what if I want to touch you, too?" she teases.

"You can do that later," I whisper into her ear, before silencing her by pressing my lips to hers.

And just as I'm about to get rid of that pesky bra, my damned cell phone rings. Of all the times!

"Damn it," I grunt against her neck as I work to form a new hickey against her skin and remove the remainder of her clothes at the same time, "I can't believe this…"

"You can always mark me later, Cat," Sara tells me, but I can tell she's just as annoyed as I am. She's panting and sweating trying to catch her breath.

"But I'm busy," I grumble and finally grab my phone when my fuse is dangerously short. "Hello?" I irritably ask.

"Catherine, I need you and your team to come in early today."

Oh God. It's Conrad. I immediately put my hand over Sara's mouth so he doesn't hear her erratic breathing in the background. "What are you talking about?" I ask him. I'm thrown off-guard and try to act professional but I'm still frustrated that he would call right now. Besides, I was going to take a day off!

"Days is swamped," he says. I can hear the urgency in his voice. "Drive-bys, B&Es, robberies, you name it, it happened last night. It's like the town had an overnight crime spree."

I let out a long, exasperated sigh. I do _not_ want to deal with this today. "Conrad, incase you don't remember my team just finished up a big case," I explain, watching Sara as her facial expression turns from confusion to understanding once she knows who I'm talking to, "A high-profile case as a matter of fact. We worked doubles and we need to rest."

"I'm sorry Cath, but you know I wouldn't ask you to come in if it wasn't urgent," he explains.

Yes you would, you big ass.

"Fine," I sigh, finally giving up. He's just as stubborn as I am. "But you owe us." Clicking off my phone, I toss it on the nightstand and look down at Sara whose face is still flushed and chest is still heaving. I'm not leaving her hanging like this.

"What did Ecklie say?" she asks me, letting out a happy moan once my mouth is reconnected to the skin on her neck.

"I have to go in early to work," I mumble, using my teeth and my tongue as I continue my handiwork from earlier. No, it's fine craftsmanship.

"No," she moans. She means to groan but she can't right now. "No, you're not going anywhere…"

"I have to," I mumble, "They're swamped and they need the help. But I'll be back as soon as I can. Just hang tight until then, okay?" I ask her, biting down on the skin on her neck as I finish marking my territory.

"Shit, Cath!" This is a phrase she's come to say quite frequently now. She looks up at me with wide, glazed-over eyes, "Tell him you're sick," she pants, "I'm… sure he'll—"

_Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring…_

That's _not_ my phone.

"Damn it!" she screams out. Well, there's the answer as to whose phone it was. Getting to a sitting position, she leans over and grabs the jeans she was wearing last night, pulling her phone out of the back pocket. I give her side a little pinch just to tease her.

"Cut it out," she hisses at me and I can't help but start laughing. "Quiet!" she orders as she answers the phone. "What?"

I'm wondering who it is now. I don't think Conrad would call Sara in since her suspension.

She lets out a sigh just as I did and I can tell she's just received the same wonderful news as me. "Fine, I'll be there," she says and immediately hangs up.

"He got you too, huh?" I ask her, gently kneading the muscles in her neck which are now tense.

"That was Grissom," she informs me, closing her eyes with a sigh. "My suspension has been lifted because Ecklie's team won't get off their asses and do their jobs right. Oh, and I have to apologize to you."

I chuckle as she turns and looks at me with a grin. "Apologize? I think you've done a lot more than that," I tell her. But the fun can't last long and I get to my feet with a sigh, looking around for clothes. "I would love to stay here and tease you longer but we have to go in or Ecklie will send the wolves after us."

"Don't remind me," Sara groans, getting to her feet stiffly and stretching. "Everyone always tells me that I need to sleep, and then I do and I have to go into work early."

I chuckle again as I look over at her. She's shooting me that look of hers. "That's true," I tell her, opening up her closet. "And I'm going to borrow some of your clothes, if you don't mind…"

"Not at all," she tells me, walking up behind me. "I'd recommend wearing something I don't wear often or else the boys might get suspicious…"

"Well obviously," I smile, reaching in and grabbing a pair of jeans and a low-cut t-shirt. We may be going to work but that doesn't mean I can't have a little fun at Sara's expense.

"Hey, that's not fair," she tells me with a pout.

"Hey, you could've teased me with it for years but you chose to wear a tank top underneath it," I tell her, holding my hands up in defense.

"True," Sara concedes, grabbing a pair of khaki-colored slacks and a brown long-sleeved top. "But that was because Greg wouldn't stop looking down my shirt."

"Can you blame him?" I ask her. She raises an eyebrow and I just laugh as I put on my shoes I thankfully remembered.

After spending five minutes- not quite long enough- to get ready we're out the door, deciding to take separate cars. I brought mine to her place last night anyways and it would raise questions if we arrived in the same car. I already coached her on how to act- we're supposed to hate each other right now, I reminded her.

We still arrive at the lab at approximately the same time and she meets me at the front doors of the lab. "Remember, we're mad at each other," I tell her and she nods, putting on her best—and very convincing, I might add—poker face.

We're barely through the doors before Conrad's racing down the halls to meet us. He's like a fly, why won't he go buzz somewhere else? Was he waiting for us the entire time?

"Thanks for coming, Catherine," Conrad greets… me. Not Sara. "It's chaos," he explains. Then he turns to Sara. I certainly don't like the way he looks at her. I've never noticed it before but there's always been a hostility between them and even as just an onlooker it's disarming. "Miss Sidle, your suspension has been lifted."

Thanks for stating the obvious, I want to tell him. And what's with this 'Miss Sidle' business?

"Grissom informed me," Sara nods, trying her best not to snap at him.

"As long as you apologize to Catherine, everything—" I interrupt him.

"She has already formally apologized," Among other things, "And I have accepted her apology," I tell him. He looks baffled and I can see a smile tugging at the corners of Sara's lips out of the corner of my eye.

"Alright then," he practically grumbles like a little kid as he reaches down and grabs a file, holding it out to me, even when Sara reaches for it. A-S-S. I hand it to her anyway. "Double-homicide, downtown area," he says. "A husband and his wife were found shot to death in front of their home in their driveway," he continues, "Execution-style killing. We suspect there may be some gang involvement, there was a tag spray-painted on the garage door. Looks like the Snake Backs."

I look over at Sara who's already back in CSI-mode, looking the file and crime-scene photos over with her eyes. "Any sign of them since?" she asks.

"None," Ecklie says. "Catherine, you're free to take Sara along if you feel you may need the help."

"I appreciate that," I reply. Oh do I. "We'll head over the scene now. I'm assuming an officer is there?"

"Already cleared the scene, he's just waiting for you guys," Ecklie says. Throwing one more glance over at Sara, he turns and leaves.

"The way he looks at you you'd almost think he has a thing for you," I mumble, looking over at Sara. I'm not even sure she's heard me. She's still staring at the file, watching it like a hawk. She's definitely back on the job.

"I've worked quite a few cases with the Snake Backs," she informs me, staring at the tag on the garage door. "This is definitely their signature. Every case I work with them, they seem to get out one way or the other. You know this kid shot and raped this woman and only got forty-eight months in juvie for it? She's brain-dead and he's already back on the streets."

For a moment I'm beginning to think maybe it wasn't such a good idea to have Sara work with me. I don't want this case to bother her, not after the last one. It brought up too many painful memories and just thinking about what she revealed to me when she was that vulnerable all those nights ago makes me want to hold her and never let go. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?" I gently ask her.

She blinks, and shoots me her 'I'm okay but I'm not' fake smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'll feel a lot better when we get the people who did this."

For now, I'm satisfied. As Warrick and Nick appear down the hallway coming from the break room, I put a hand on Sara's shoulder. "Can you explain everything to them? I'm going to go get my kit," I tell her. When she nods I turn and head toward my office- which is really more of an 'office space' than an actual office- to retrieve my kit.

I'm gone for about five minutes only to come back and discover that Nick and Warrick are now gone. "Where did they go?" I ask her.

"I told them to try and look for some sort of connection between the victims and the Snake Backs since we were heading off to the scene," she tells me. That sounds kind of nice, actually. The scene to ourselves, just the two of us.

"Okay," I simply reply, shooting her a small smile. She didn't have the authority to do so, but this is fine too.

"Should we go?" she asks me.

"Yeah, let's get over there."

The ride over to the scene was very silent and not enjoyable. I'm wondering why Sara isn't saying anything but I'm not either. Why am I suddenly so quiet?

Just as I'm about to turn on the radio to try and break the silence she starts to speak. "Cath… I…"

"What is it, Sara?" I ask, grateful that she's finally opened her mouth.

"Nick and Warrick… they're my friends," she starts, "but… today, they were… looking at me differently; like I was the kid at school who was sent to the principal's office and suspended."

"Well, that's sort of what happened," I tell her. Oh my god, did I just say that?

She turns around and immediately shoots me this look, her eyes wide in disbelief. I'm just as shocked as she is and I try to look at her but I have to keep my eye on the road at the same time.

"What did you say?" she whispers. Oh no… talk about putting your foot in your mouth.

"Sara, I didn't mean it like that…" I try to explain. Then what _did_ I mean?

"Then what _did_ you mean, Cath?" she asks me, never tearing her eyes from me. I can feel her gaze. "Am I just the problematic rebellious teenager who keeps getting in detention because I feel the victim's pain and I'm holding onto myself by a string? Or just a bad dog who needs to be kept on a leash?"

"No Sara, of course not, don't be ridiculous," I suddenly snap. She sounds ridiculous. I can't help it, but she's smarter than that and these are some of the dumbest things I've ever heard come out of her mouth. "That has to be the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say." I don't seem to hear it, or don't want to hear it, but there's this little voice in the back of my head that's telling me I'm only making the situation worse.

"Story of my life, Cath," Sara says, finally tearing her gaze away from me to stare straight out the windshield. "Story of my life." She opens the passenger-side door and gets out, slamming the door behind her.

"Sara, don't do this!" I try to tell her, but she's already closed the door and grabbed her kit, walking over to the waiting officer.

Sara's an angel, so why does it feel like we've just been visited by the angel of death?

**TBC**


	7. Gunshots

**A/N: Thank you all again for the great reviews and encouragement :D This is the chapter where everything starts to go downhill. I warned you.**

Damn it Cath, why did you have to go and say something like that _now_ of all times? Sara's obviously not in a very good place mentally or she wouldn't have reacted that way! She's convinced that her only friends are treating her differently now because of what happened in the lab. And that's not true, knowing Nicky he's worried sick and Warrick's confused out of his mind- they both know Sara wouldn't do something like that.

But she's dealt with so much over the last few days that I'm not so sure she knows.

I turn around to look toward the back of the Denali for Sara only to discover she's long gone, already having retrieved her kit from the back. I quickly scramble out of the car and grab my kit from the trunk, closing it behind me and following her up to the taped-off house in front of us. There are blood pools in the driveway- but not as much as you'd expect- and the victims are lying on the pavement next to each other right underneath the spray-painted signature of the Snakebacks.

Sara goes straight to a uniform stationed next to the crime-scene for information and I choose to stand back and let her have the authority right now. She needs to let off some steam. "What do we have?" she asks.

"Jim Krotoski and his wife Jane owned this place," the officer explains, motioning to the disheveled house in front of us. "He was a big-time stock-broker; he's got millions in the bank. His wife stayed at home and did the paperwork."

"Who called 9-1-1?" Sara asks.

"The neighbors," he explains, "They said they heard the gunshots and called the cops, but by the time they looked out the window the perps were already gone."

Sara nods and looks over at me, mentally asking me if I think that's enough information about the scene for now. Warrick and Nick will tell us more about the victims, so I nod. Just as I'm about to tell her where to look around, she beats me to it.

"I'll take the perimeter," she says, and without another look or word, she turns and walks off.

"Right," I sigh, lifting my kit back up and lifting the tape up over my head, heading for the front of the house. This place is huge—it's going to take hours to cover. I hope Sara's planning on coming back to help me when she's finished with the perimeter if she doesn't still hate my guts in three hours.

I shine my flashlight into the entryway and immediately notice signs of struggle—a knocked over vase (expensive-looking), shattered mirror hanging on the wall, picture frames lying on the floor. The rug is turned over and there's a shoe impression in what appears to be blood. That's the thing about gang crimes—there's a lot of evidence. More than enough evidence; you'd think with the many times they have to deal with the cops they'd wise-up and start being more careful, but they never do.

After taking a few shots of that, I continue my scope of the house, hearing Sara's camera clicking off a few shots outside. Normally what I said probably wouldn't have affected her this way. She probably would've laughed it off and forgotten all about it. But considering everything she's been through, everything she's told me about, that damn case that got to her so much, it's understandable that she took it the way she did. I made it sound like she was a dog Ecklie had to keep on a leash.

I wince at the way that sounds in my head. God, Sara…

Not even thinking about the crime-scene anymore, I continue to subconsciously snap photos of blood smears and trails through the house with my camera as I start to plan how I'm going to make it up to her. I'll take her out for drinks, maybe. I'll be there with her, so I can control her alcohol intake. God knows she needs a beer or two right now, I don't blame her, I sure could use one.

So that's it—drinks after shift, I know just the place. There's a nice relatively quiet bar just off the Strip. It's sort of in a strange place, so it doesn't get a lot of tourists or foot traffic. Hey, maybe if I'm lucky, I can even talk her into a dance or two.

I start laughing aloud- Sara Sidle is not the dancing-type, I know. Although she sure has the right body for it.

And maybe, just maybe, I can find a way for her to slip in that sexy little pair of black leather pants I have hanging in my closet. They'd sure look nice on her… tight, but that's the whole point.

I slowly start to revert back to CSI-mode as I snap more pictures of a continuous blood trail, starting from the kitchen and leading to the front door. Just as I walk into the kitchen, I spot blood pools, and this is definitely more than we saw outside the house. This is obviously the initial crime-scene. So the suspect must've shot both of them in here and then dragged them outside.

Just to humor myself, I turn around and head out of the room in search of a murder weapon. I mean, the guy couldn't have been that stupid, right?

I freeze when I notice something glistens in the light from my maglite. Metal. I take a step closer and kneel down beside a small cabinet only to discover a .9 millimeter pistol lying in a flower pot, the safety still clicked off. This was our lucky day! I try not to smile too, too big as I take multiple photos of it. Now I can steal Sara away earlier…

"Sara!" I call out a little too enthusiastically. I like my job, what can I say?

No answer. I figure she must not have heard me and try again. "Sara!"

Still no answer. There _was_ a lot of noise outside, so maybe she still doesn't hear me… or maybe she's still mad. "I found the murder weapon!" I call over my shoulder. That has to get her attention, even _if_ she's still mad. I've never seen someone else get so excited about finding a murder weapon at the crime-scene than her.

There's footsteps behind me, and I'm about to start rambling on about the evening I have planned for her and I before I realize that the person who just entered the crime-scene is not Sara. I know her footsteps, and these are not hers. These footsteps are too heavy.

Instinctively I move my hand toward my holster, but I feel something round and hard against my back that says otherwise. "Drop it," a male voice hisses.

Shit. Damn. Hell. Son of a—

"I said drop it!" they shout.

I slowly and reluctantly comply even though now I am a bit scared, letting my gun drop to the floor. I watch from the corner of my eye as the person behind me leans down and grabs it and I can hear him stuffing it in his pants.

"Now turn around," he growls, "And slowly, or I swear I'll blow your head straight off!"

Well when he puts it that way, I really have no choice. Slowly I turn myself around, my hands in the air at my sides. When I see his face I try and memorize every detail- this kid can't be much older than Lindsey. I look down and realize there's a black bandana tied around his leg and a bloody patch of denim on his jeans.

"You cut yourself?" I ask him, motioning to his leg. He must have gotten it during the struggle with the victims. "Or did you slip up and let one of them stab you?" What am I doing? And where in the hell is that officer from earlier?

"Shut up, bitch!" he hisses, clicking the safety off his gun. I didn't know gang members even kept the safety on. "Take out your wallet, and do it slowly…" he adds. "I want everything you have on you before I kill you."

"No wallet," I reply. "And what's killing me going to solve? It's just going to land you into even mo—" Before I can finish he's whacked me across the face with the butt of the gun.

"I said SHUT UP!" he screams.

"LVPD, drop it."

…Where did Sara come from? God that hurts…

Grasping the bruised skin on my jaw, I look over the suspect's shoulder only to see her standing in the doorway of the house, her gun held in front of her and hand on her radio. The light behind her shining on the silhouette of her body makes her look like an angel. My guardian angel.

"What the hell?" the kid hisses.

"This is CSI Sidle, I need immediate back-up at 1113 Fremont Street near Henderson, the suspect has returned to the scene and is armed," she expertly says into her radio. It would turn me on at any other time but right now I'm too scared to exactly be aroused by anything.

"Roger that, back-up is being sent."

"What are you doing here, bitch?" the kid hisses at her.

"That's funny, because I'm wondering the exact same thing," she coolly replies, slowly circling around the room, her eyes trained on the suspect. What the hell are you doing? I want to shout at her. She's moving _closer_ to him, she should be running away!

"I have some unfinished business," he spits on the floor next to him and I can see something in Sara's eyes light up. Free DNA sample.

"That's basically all we need for a conviction, you know," I butt in. I finally realize what Sara's doing—she's trying to move _in front of me_.

"Catherine, stop talking," Sara orders, finally stopping when she's standing right in front of me as a shield. "He's already killed the officer outside, he won't hesitate to kill you too." …Sara… She's trying to sound confident but her voice is wavering on pure fear and panic.

"Sara, what the hell are you doing?" I finally hiss at her.

"Cath, he _will_ kill you, so don't you _dare_ move!" she practically shouts at me as she hears me trying to move behind her. "I'm not going to lose you too!"

Then it hits me- she doesn't care what happens to her, she wants to protect me.

"Goddamn it Sara, why do you have to be so stubborn?" I growl into her ear. I know now's not necessarily the best time for our regular antics but I don't want her to get hurt. She may not care what happens to her, but I do.

"How sweet is this, we've got the Dyke Sisters," the kid cackles at us. "I wonder if you two have ever actually had a good fuck," he starts moving his hips in a mock-hump movement and it's enough to make me want to gag, and as if Sara senses this she moves so I can't see him anymore.

Sara's trying her hardest to stay calm and collect but her muscles are so tense right now I think if a fly landed on her she'd end up squeezing the trigger on her gun.

"Do you hear that?" she finally speaks, motioning with her head to our left. I can hear the sirens she's indicating. "The cops are coming, and you'll be doing a whole lot of this where you're going," Sara finishes, mimicking the movement of the suspect.

Oh my god did Sara really just do that?

"Bitch! I'm going to kill you both before they ever put me away!" the kid shouts. But his voice sounds a bit nervous now, and as he turns his head away for a brief moment to look for the sirens, Sara makes a move.

I don't exactly know what happened next.

I watched, glued to the floor as she lunged at the suspect and wrapped her arms around his midsection, trying to tackle him to the floor. As they began to fall onto the floor, Sara on top of the suspect who was cursing her out the entire time she was able to knock the gun from his hand and I watched as it fell to the floor.

He kicked her off of him and she flew across the room, hitting one of the walls as he made a dash for the gun.

"Sara!" I'm not sure what to do. There's my gun- that he obviously dropped- lying a few feet away from me but at the same time I want to make sure Sara's okay. I didn't make my mind up fast enough, and the next thing I know I'm staring down the barrel of a .9 millimeter pistol, the same make and model of the murder weapon I was about to bag before this whole hellish nightmare began…

I hear the hammer click and I shut my eyes closed as tight as I can. This is it, I know it. The sirens are still what sound to be a few blocks away. I don't have any chance of fighting back. I don't know where Sara is…

God Sara, I'm so sorry for all of this.

I brace myself for the gunshot but quickly open my eyes when I don't hear one. I'm just in time to see Sara struggling with the suspect, fighting for the gun. I've never seen that look before in her eyes… there's fire in her eyes. Anger, fear, pain, and the most powerful sense of protectiveness I've ever seen.

"Sara!" I shout to her, trying to tell her to hang on as I move to get my gun. Damn it, where is it? It was here a minute ago! They must have kicked it somewhere else during their fight.

I spot it in the far corner of the room and scramble to get it, before I hear a bang.

Gunshot.

All coherent thoughts leave my head as I turn around with wide eyes, looking at both Sara and the suspect. They're both not moving, but they're both still on their feet.

"Shit," the suspect curses and turns to bolt for the door as the sirens grow closer. But I'm not concerned with him right now. Brass will get him.

I run over to Sara and put a hand on her shoulder, starting to worry now more than ever at the shaking of her body. "Sara?" I whisper, studying her face. All color quickly drains and she's pale as a sheet. "Sara, say something!" I order her, "Right now, you hear me?"

She slowly turns to look at me and that's when I see the blood beginning to cake her vest near her chest. She starts coughing up blood and collapses onto me, the force of her fall knocking us both to the floor.

"WE NEED HELP!" I shout as the back-up finally arrives. I hold tightly onto her with one arm as my other hand presses against the wound. She looks up at me with wide, fear-filled eyes and I can't hold back the tears that are quickly forming in my eyes. "Sara, stay with me, you hear me?" I ask her. She opens her mouth to reply but only chokes on her own blood.

I did the only thing I thought to do. I screamed.

TBC


	8. How To Save A Life

**A/N: Thank you again to all of those who have been reading and reviewing, especially since the very beginning of the story. You guys make me feel like some sort of fanfiction-writing god XD**

"Sara, I swear to God if you die on me I'll kill you again!" Oh God she's losing so much blood, she's losing _too_ much blood. She's struggling just to sit up and the blood is leaking through my fingers much too quickly.

"C-Ca—" she choked on her words and I watch helplessly as more blood drips from the sides of her mouth.

"Don't try and talk Sara," I whisper to her, wiping the blood away with my hand. "Please don't try and talk, you're bleeding so much…" I don't think she even realizes how bad it is. I can hear sirens approaching the house now and just pray they'll get here in time. I can't lose her; not now. I'm just getting to know her!

She's trying to reach up to me with her hand but even that's too much for her. She leaves a bloody handprint on my chest and I just want to burst into tears here and now. But I know that I can't, I have to be strong for her…

"God, Sara," I choke back a sob as I grab her hand and squeeze it as hard as I can, both out of fear and anger. "Why did you… I _told _you to leave!" I try not to shout at her. There's a smear of blood across her cheek and I can feel her breaths coming out shallower with each passing second. "Why couldn't you just listen to me for once? _Look_ at you!"

Before I know it she's caressing my cheek with the back of her hand, staring into my eyes, her own glazed over. I watch as the tears that had been forming in her eyes finally start to descend down her cheeks and I finally start to cry, unable to hold it in any longer. "Damn it, Sara… why didn't you just _listen _to—"

She silences me by pressing her index finger against my lips. She's trying to tell me with her eyes that everything will be okay… but how? _How_ will everything be okay? How can she be certain of these things? I don't know but just looking into her eyes is calming me down considerably.

"Are you my guardian angel?" I quietly ask her, wiping at my eyes with a blood-stained hand. She tries to laugh at this and the effort it causes her breaks my heart. "Don't you dare leave me," I order her, "Okay? I'm _not_ losing you now!"

She looks up at me, her eyes half glazed-over and I notice the unshed tears in her eyes as she fights to hang on. She opens her mouth to speak but only a ragged, shallow breath comes out and I fight back the sob that's forming in my throat as I lean over her. "Sara, listen to me," I whisper to her, "Listen to me, okay? You're going to be fine… you're going to be just fine, and when we get out of this I'm going to take you home and—" Shit. Her eyes are closing.

"Goddamn it, Sara!" I shout at her. "Wake up! Don't close your eyes, look at me!" Without really knowing what I'm doing I lean toward her and gently plant my lips on hers, ignoring the bitter taste of her blood. I just want to do something, anything for her to open her eyes again. She can't leave me yet. I'm not going to let her.

"We need medics in here NOW!" I hear Jim's voice but it's like a dream. This is so unreal… I find the love of my life and then two days later she's lying in my arms bloody and barely clinging to life. She did it to save my life and I'm not going to let her die on me now.

"Sara, please open your eyes," I whisper to her, gently brushing my hand against her pale cheek as I pull back from the kiss. She slowly opens her eyes and gazes up at me as a single tear begins to fall down her face. Her mouth moves and her eyes flutter and then her hand falls limp in mine.

"Sara?" I quickly ask. "Sara, stay with me!" I shout at her, "You open your eyes right now!" Damn it why won't she just _open_ her _eyes_?

"Miss, we need to take her now," I hear an EMT say as they shove me out of the way and swarm around Sara. I put a hand over my mouth in disbelief as I watch them lift her limp form up onto a stretcher and rush her out of the house outside. I feel the tears running down my face but I can't make a sound. I'm crying and watching them take her away from me but I can't speak.

"Catherine, go with her." Thank God for Brass. He shoves me in the direction of the stretcher and I numbly crawl inside just as they close the doors. I can hear the siren blaring overhead and my sight is full of red and blue flashes as I glance down at Sara. I slowly reach down and grab her hand, entwining our fingers together as I listen to the EMTs buzzing around me.

"Get an IV started," one says. I watch as they tear off the sleeve to Sara's brown long-sleeved t-shirt and start to get the IV ready. I can't help but frown a little… I liked that shirt on her. I'll get you a new one when this is over Sara, I promise.

"BP's dropping," another EMT says.

"Her temperature's in the low 90s and dropping fast!" another exclaims.

I feel my grip on her hand tighten as I listen to the heart monitor which is dipping and rising at an alarming pace.

"She's losing a lot of blood," the first EMT states. For the first time I look down at her vest and notice the amount of blood that's soaked through it. As soon as they take her vest off I feel a jerk in my stomach. That's Sara's blood… all of it… oh god Sara, no…

"We need to get her in there, _now_!" the EMTs shout as the back doors of the ambulance fly open and they lift her out, dashing toward the ER. I stumble out after them but as soon as I see the blood dripping from the stretcher I can't handle it anymore and collapse onto my knees outside, emptying the contents of my stomach into the bushes. All my years as a CSI I've never thrown up at a crime-scene. I always thought I had a strong stomach.

I look up just in time to see them rushing Sara through the double-doors into the ER and I finally break down and let out that stupid sob I've been holding back all this time. This can't be happening; this has to be a bad dream… I know it is. I just have to wake up and then I'll be back in bed with her listening to that adorable little snore of hers.

I close my eyes and open them again. Wake up, damn it! Wake up, for Christ's sake, wake _UP_!

I shakily get to my feet and stumble toward the front doors of the ER but everything's spinning and getting fuzzy and I think I see Sara standing in front of me but oh wait that can't be her she's…

I hear a voice, and then blackness.

"…_transfusion…"_

"…_low… blood… risky…"_

"…_only chance… if not…"_

"…_know… ask that woman…"_

I let out a groan as I slowly come back to the world. Part of me is still thinking this is all a dream but when I open my eyes and see that I'm laying on a white hospital bed in a sterile room I know it's not. I could just break down in tears right now all over again.

Bracing myself with both hands I slowly get to my feet and head into the small bathroom to splash some water on my face. I feel so light-headed so I must have passed out and right now I really need to regain my bearings if I'm going to be of any help to Sara. I need to be strong for her.

Cupping my hands with the water in the sink I splash my face a few times, letting out a relieved sigh as the cool water helps snap me awake. After turning the faucets off I grab a towel and start wiping off my face and looking in the mirror I see I'm now wearing some sort of white scrubs. They must've taken my clothes for evidence… Sara's blood must've been all over me.

Why didn't she listen to me? If she had listened to me this never would have happened in the first place and she'd be fine! But no, it's not her fault, I remind myself. It's not her fault. It could never be her fault.

It's my fault. She got shot trying to protect me and now she could die.

Just as I'm about to let out a string of explicative terms I jump as I hear a female voice behind me. Sara?

I turn around and I see a nurse and let out a disappointed sigh.

"Miss Willows?" she cheerfully asks. "It's good to see you awake again. You gave us quite the scare, you just blacked out outside of the—"

"How's Sara?" I chime in. "How is she? Please tell me she's okay…"

"—ER so we had to bring you back inside and put you in an empty room! But it's good that you're awake now, you've been out for about an hour now."

I blink. An hour? What the hell happened in an hour? "How is Sara?" I repeat. "Is she okay?"

"She's stable now," the nurse replies with a small nod. "We almost lost her a few times but she's a fighter. I think she has a few more things she has to do on Earth before she goes."

Damn right she does! Like explain why she almost got herself killed and left me! "Yeah, she's stubborn," I manage to get out, letting a shaky sigh. "Is she going to be okay?"

"The doctor was able to remove the bullet without any difficulties and stitch up the wound," the nurse tells me. "However our biggest concern was the amount of blood she was losing."

There sounds like there's an 'and' or a 'but' to that statement. "But she's stable now, right?" I nervously ask. "You said she was stable."

"For the time being," the nurse replies with a small sigh. Don't sigh at me! What the hell is going on here? "If she does not receive a transfusion I'm afraid there's nothing else we can do."

"Then give her the transfusion," I automatically reply.

"She's a B-," the nurse says.

"So give her the transfusion!" I shoot back, not really thinking about anything else. I'm not losing her.

"Miss Willows, as I'm sure you know a B- blood type is extremely rare," the nurse says. "It generally shows up in only two percent of the population. Miss Sidle is among that two percent."

"…What are you saying?" I hesitantly ask, almost afraid of the answer.

The nurse lets out a long sigh. "We don't currently have any in our blood bank."

…If someone dropped a needle on the floor right now…

…no, now I know this has to be a dream, this sort of thing only happens in soap operas. I promised Sara that I was going to take her home. I'll do whatever she wants, I'll wait on her hand and foot, I'll cook her favorite vegetarian tofu stir-fry I hate so much, I'll—

"I'm a universal donor," I whisper only breath.

"—I'm afraid there's nothing else we can do now but—" The nurse didn't hear me. Yes, there is something we can do. I'm going to save Sara's life like she saved mine.

"I'm a universal donor," I announce. "And I'm giving my blood to Sara."

TBC


	9. Waking

**A/N: Thank you all for continuing to read and review, it makes my day :)**

I'm sitting next to her now, watching her sleep as I play with the bandage on my arm from where the doctor drew the blood for the transfusion. I've never been a fan of needles but the pain was the last thing on my mind. All I could think about was how much Sara sacrificed so that I would come out of that hellhole unharmed. She could have lost her life and she almost did.

I'm not sure now exactly what the doctor was telling me while he was getting the blood but I was able to stay for the transfusion. Every minute was painstakingly-long as I watched my blood slowly retract its way into her veins—the blood that would ultimately save Sara's life just like she saved mine. After the longest hour of my life the doctor smiled and said the transfusion had been successful.

I've been sitting here ever since, and all I want is for her to wake up. Or at least make some movement just to let me know she's still here with me. I'm holding her hand but it feels cold. I'm looking up at her face but her eyes and lips are void. She looks pale and lifeless and I just want her to come back to me.

She's going to have some explaining to do when she wakes up, there's no doubt about that, but for now I'm just going to let her sleep- easier said than done. With a sigh I lean forward in the uncomfortable hospital chair I'm seated in and rest my head just above Sara's. I simply gaze at her face for a moment. "Please Sara," I whisper, "Please… just wake up." Shortly after I close my eyes and drift off to a troubled sleep.

_Where am I? Well this is a bright white room. I can't say I'm exactly wild about the décor. It kind of reminds me of Sara's hospital room. Wait—the hospital. Wasn't I just there? I was there with Sara, the transfusion had just finished. I think I fell asleep. So where am I now? Is this a dream?_

_I try to look around and study my surroundings but my keen-CSI eye can't stand the harsh glare of the bright lights around me. Where are they coming from? It's too bright to see anything._

_"Hello?" I ask. My voice echoes around me and it's a little unnerving. "Is someone there?" Just when I'm about to give up and yell at myself to wake up I hear movement in the distance. "Hello?" I repeat._

_There's a muffled voice coming from somewhere in front of me but I can't make it out. Suddenly it's very loud—there are other voices that are following but they're not muffled. They're shouting incoherently and drowning out each other. The harsh sound is beginning to hurt my ears and I try to cover them in hopes of stifling the angry slurs. _

_"Who's there?" I call out. My hands are over my ears but I can make my own voice out perfectly. "Who are you? What do you want?"_

_The voices suddenly amplify in sound and appear to be coming closer. I still can't make out anything around me from the bright lights. God I just want this to stop, I can't take much more of this. I feel like I'm going insane. My head is starting to spin. Am I dead? Is this what this is? Sara getting shot… Sara and I together… was this some sort of sick hallucination? Is this hell?_

_"What do you want?" I finally shout out. "I don't know who you are but whatever it is you want, I'm right here! Just stop this!" My head can't take much more of this._

_The voices stop abruptly and I look around wildly as the bright lights suddenly flicker out, engulfing me in darkness. There's no sound except for my ragged breathing and for a few moments I think I'm alone until I hear a loud bang. I know that sound and it's more terrifying and haunting now than it ever has been before. It's a gunshot._

_I jump and let out a small scream as it sounds dangerously close. I expect to feel a bullet ripping through me at any minute now but it never comes. I can smell the gunpowder, but I don't see a shooter. I can hear the gunshot ringing through my ears, but I don't see a gun. "W-Who's there…?" I repeat, a bit hesitantly now. I don't want to get shot, and if this is hell I'm sure that's just going to complicate things._

_"Catherine."_

_That voice… I know that voice. But it… can't be Sara, she's…_

_"Sara?" I ask, looking around for her in the dark. I start stumbling blindly into nothingness. "Sara, where are you?"_

_"Follow my voice, Cath."_

_"Sara, I can't see anything…" I try to tell her. My heart is still trying to pound its way out of my chest but hearing Sara's calm voice is slowly starting to relax me. "It's too dark."_

_"Keep walking," she tells me. "I can see you."_

_How can she see me? Its pitch black in here, wherever the hell it is we are. "Okay," I tell her. I continue to take some steps forward even though I don't know where I'm going. "Sara, where are we?"_

_"In your dream, Cath."_

_There's a bright flash of white that blinds me and I have to shield my face from the glare as the room once again lights up. When I can finally see again I notice that the entire area has changed. It looks like some sort of garden__. There are flowers of all types and colors around me and I can hear the faint chirping of birds in the distance. I squint to see in front of me but I can make out the silhouette of a person. "Sara?" I softly ask, taking a step forward. A familiar scent fills my nostrils and now I know for sure that she's the one standing in front of me._

_"Hey," Sara smiles once I'm standing in front of her. She's wearing the same outfit she wore to work today, but there's no blood. But how could that be possible? I saw her get shot…_

_"Sara?" I ask in barely a whisper as I look up at her face. She's smiling at me and the warmth that had been missing from her cheeks is back again. Her hair is no longer messy and mottled with blood and tears. "I… I don't understand, Sara…" I try to explain, "I… how can this…?" She simply looks into my eyes __before directing her gaze down to her chest. I follow her eyes and notice that there is no wound from the gunshot._

_"Oh my god…" I can feel the tears starting to form in my eyes now as I look back up at her face. Her smile is still present, as bright as day. "You're really okay…?" I whisper to her._

_She simply nods and without thinking too much of it I pull her into my arms and start crying. Her scent is stronger now and I can feel her heartbeat steadily against my chest. "I thought I lost you," I whisper to her. "I thought you had left me…"_

_"I would never leave you, __Cath__," she tells me. "But I can't stay here long."_

_As we pull away from the embrace I wipe at my eyes and let out a shaky breath. "What do you mean, Sara? I don't even know where we are."_

_She smiles again and reaches out, softly brushing her hand against my cheek. __I close my eyes and wait to feel the sensation of her touch, but I feel nothing. I quickly open my eyes and see that her hand is still touching me, but I can't feel it. "Sara?" I ask, looking at her in horror. "Sara, I can't feel you…"_

_Slowly her smile fades away and she moves her hand back to her side. "This is your dream, Cath." Sara says. "Anything can happen in a dream. You want to see me, don't you?"_

_This is just a dream… I don't want __this to be a dream. Everything is__ perfect. "This can't be a dream, Sara," I tell her. "There's no way…" I know that there is a way and she does too. I can tell by the look she's giving me. "But then… that means…" I trail off, looking back down at her chest. "The bullet wound…"_

_The material around her shirt quickly darkens and my eyes widen in horror as I notice the red beginning to drip onto the lush green grass under us. The grass wilts and dies as the crimson drops fall. "No…" I look up at her face. "No, Sara… please, __don't__ leave…"_

_"I can't stay here, __Cath__," Sara tells me. I'm in tears now but her face is still cool and calm. I don't want to lose her. Not again. "I can't stay here with you, but you can come with me."_

_"What do you mean?" I ask, confused._

_She smiles again. __"Just wake up, Catherine.__ That's all you have to do."_

_Now I'm even more confused. "What?"_

_"Wake up, Cath. Just wake up."_

_Why is she leaving? Her figure is becoming more and more distant and the lights are glaring at my eyes again. "Sara, wait! Don't go!" I can't see her anymore and I have to shield my face from the lights._

_"Just wake up… you can do it, Cat, just wake up…"_

_"Sara!" I shout._

_"…wake up…"_

_"Sara, come back!"_

_"…wake…"_

"Cath…"

I feel a movement around me and I start to stir. Now where am I?

"Just wake up, Cath… please…"

Wait. That's Sara's voice. I quickly open my eyes and look up at her. We're in the hospital. God I never thought I'd be thankful for that.

**TBC**


	10. Heaven

**A/N: Again, I apologize immensely for the lack of updates but anyone who is human knows (I'm pretty sure you guys are human… I sure hope so, because I don't know how to speak alien) real life can really get in the way. Thank you all for reading and reviewing and I hope you guys enjoy this last installment of this story :)**

The first thing I did was kiss her. The warm glow has returned to her face and her lips no longer feel like ice, the way they did at the crime-scene. Actually she feels quite warm. The only thing that brought me back out of my reverie was her concerned voice filling my ears.

"Cath, what's wrong?" Sara asks. "You look like you've just seen a—""Don't," I interrupt her, letting out a shaky laugh. "Like I've just seen a ghost? Yeah, right, well that's because I think I kind of did."

She looks at me like I'm crazy and I can tell her level of concern is just rising ever steeper. "What?" she manages to ask."Nevermind," I sigh, shaking my head. Putting a hand on her shoulder, I gently but forcefully push her back to her hospital bed. She needs to rest, and she doesn't need to be worried with the details of my stupid dream. I'm a grown woman-- I don't think I'm supposed to have nightmares anymore. "Don't worry about it," I smile at her. "Go ahead and get some more rest, okay?" As much as I want to burst into tears and hug her and never let go, I'm going to restrain myself for the time being. She doesn't need that right now, for god's sake she just got shot.

"You were having a dream," Sara informs me. God she's stubborn. I guess that's a good thing. "More like a nightmare, actually…"

"Sara," I try to roll my eyes. "I do not have nightmares."

"Yeah, that's what I tell everyone too," she retorts. I can't help but smirk a little at that determined look in her eyes. "What was it about? You were saying my name…"

I sigh and close my eyes to think. Honestly, the dream didn't really make sense. It was like one of those scenes in those cheesy romantic tragedies where the person falls into some low-budget dream sequence only to see their life crumble before their eyes. "How am I supposed to explain this and make sense?" I ask her.

She shrugs. "I'm not sure," she says. "But I'm always here to listen."

"Okay," I sigh, leaning forward to rest my folded arms on the side of her hospital bed. "Where to start… ah yes, well, it was dark," I start. "Very dark… and… I couldn't see anything, but I kept hearing voices." Now that I think about it those voices sounded a lot like Sara's and that gang kid's from the crime-scene. "And then… I heard a gunshot," I continue. "And it scared me half to death. It was like I was reliving that moment at the house all over again…"

"That must've been scary," Sara supplies, reaching forward for one of my hands. I let her grab it and she squeezes it gently with her bandaged one.

"Yeah," I nod, letting out another shaky sigh. I thought the dream was stupid, but now that I'm talking about it and seeing the images again as vividly in my mind as I did when I was having it, I realize how truly horrifying it really was. But then again, that's my defense mechanism for dealing with things that scare me. I just say they were stupid, that I was over-reacting and then brush it aside. Then, maybe, if Lindsey is asleep or at a friend's house, I'll have a good cry about it later. "And I kept looking around for a shooter, but I didn't see one. I could even smell the gun smoke. It was just… it was so real," I whisper.

"Those dreams are the worst," Sara frowns, glancing at me with a look of understanding. She must have experience with those kind of dreams, given her past. I feel bad for her. "Then what happened?" she asks. I really hoped she wouldn't. But I knew she would.

"I heard your voice," I inform her. It had been so ghostly and surreal in the dream. "And you told me to follow your voice… and I followed it to this garden. It was beautiful… the birds were chirping, there were all these flowers…" I blink back the tears forming in my eyes as I glance at her face. "I think… I think it was Heaven."

Sara's silent for a few moments before she lets out a small sigh. "I had a dream like that too, actually. But mine wasn't scary… mine was like a fantasy. What did the garden look like?" she asks.

"There were roses next to a large water fountain…" I try to remember the garden as best I can with the help of my investigator memory. "And—"

"What color roses?" she interrupts.

"White," I tell her. She nods. "And there was ivy surrounding the fountain, and there was a small birdbath next to a pond filled with water lilies…"

She grins. "It sounds like we had the exact same dream, Cath."

"That's not possible," I raise an eyebrow.

"Anything's possible in a dream," Sara replies. Her comment jerks me back into my dream.

"You said that in the dream," I softly tell her. "Right before you…" I can't bring myself to finish the sentence because at the moment I can't even breathe. All I can remember now is the sight of those crimson drops falling into the grass from the gaping wound in her chest.

"Right before I what, Cath?" Sara asks. I can hear her but my mind is not replying. I feel like a robot. I'm just not complying. "Cath?" When she gives my shoulder a small shake that brings me back to reality.

"I saw you die again, Sara," I finally whisper to her. "You were dying right in front of me, and I couldn't do anything about it. Everything had been so perfect, and then you started bleeding…" I finally give in and choke on my tears. "There was so much blood!"

I feel her wrap her right arm around my shoulders—the only one she can reach me with right now—and prod me closer. Without hesitation or protest I gratefully move into her arms and when I'm close enough she's engulfed me with both. Resting my head on her shoulder, I take a deep breath and let it out shakily, but this time, a considerate amount calmer. I know one thing for sure—despite everything she's been through so far, she still smells like heaven.

"Your shampoo smells good," I whisper to her.

She just laughs and hearing her laughter when I thought for a minute that I would never be able to hear it again brings a real smile to my face. "It's your shampoo, actually…"

"Oh, right," I nod, letting out a sigh and simply leaning against her. "Well regardless, it smells good."

After a few minutes, I hear her clear her throat and I look up at her with a raised eyebrow. "Cath, as much as I enjoy letting you smell me, I think you were lying on the oxygen tube," she motions to the clip in her nostrils. Just as I'm about to start bombarding her with apologies I notice that she's moving over in her bed to make space, but it appears to be quite the task for her in her current state.

"Sara, what are you doing?" I sharply ask, taking on the tone I use with Lindsey when she refuses to clean her room. My comment obviously has not fazed Sara, who is moving all the tubes and wires around the bed and scooting toward the edge. "Sara, stop, you're going to hurt yourself!"

After some more useless pleading, she finally lays back down on her bed on the other side, looking up at me with a smile. She pats the spot next to her. "Care to join me?" she asks. Okay, I'm starting to forgive her now. "There's room for two, I do believe."

I laugh as I carefully maneuver my way around the machines and sidle into the bed next to her. I make sure to try and stay off to the edge as much as possible so she has the most room. This doesn't stop her from rolling over into the middle to curl up against me.

"This is quite cozy, Miss Sidle," I grin.

She giggles. "I do agree. I have my moments, you know." After a few minutes of just laying there together, she sighs. "So what did the doctor say, exactly?"

"Well…" I purse my lips. "He said he was able to remove the bullet from your chest without any complications, but you had lost a lot of blood, Sara. He said you needed a transfusion."

She looks up at me, clearly shocked. "It wasn't that bad! Did you tell him that?"

"_Sara_," I firmly tell her. "You almost _died_. You passed out before you could really see how much blood you were losing…" But I saw all of it, because I was covered in it. The memory of Sara's blood dripping from the stretcher the EMTs were wheeling into the ER threatens to make my stomach jerk again.

She's silent for a minute and seems to finally agree with me.

"They had trouble trying to find a donor for you," I tell her. "You have a B- blood type, and they said it's extremely rare."

"I always thought it was pretty common, I guess," Sara trails off. "Almost my entire family was B-. I got it from my dad." Looking up at me, she asks, "So where did they find a donor?"

"Well," I start to rub her back absent-mindedly with my free hand. "Lindsey and I are both universal donors. That's one thing Sam gave me that he couldn't take away when he left my family. The nurse said they couldn't find any compatible donors for you, so I volunteered for the transfusion."

She looks at me with wide eyes in disbelief. "Really?" she whispers.

"Of course," I smile at her. "I love you, didn't you know?" I try to tease her. But she's not smiling or laughing back. She looks like she's about to cry. She starts grabbing my arms and rolling up my sleeves to look for the mark from the needle.

"Here," I tell her, holding out my right arm. She rolls up my sleeve and stares at the bandage for about a good five minutes. "Did you not think I would give you my blood, Sara?" I softly ask her. "I would give you anything… you need to know that. I gave you my blood because I love you and I can't bear the thought of living without you. I'd do it again, too."

She quickly wipes at her eyes like there's a chance I hadn't noticed she was crying already. "I'm sorry," she whispers, looking up at me with a small smile. "I'm being ridiculous… it's just… no one's ever done that sort of thing for me before."

I nod my understanding. Sara's never experienced anything like this before. Her parents— of whom I would come down upon with great vengeance and furious anger—never showed her any compassion like that. They didn't care about her, and that was the sort of mentality she grew up around. They didn't even tell the doctors at the ER the truth when they brought her in every week with a new fracture. "Sara," I tell her. "Look at me."

She looks at me with misty eyes and I reach over and wipe her tears away with my fingertips. "Honey you have to understand that I love you. And you better get used to it, because when we get out of here and I take you home you're not going to be getting up out of bed anytime soon."

She laughs and finally shoots me a smile. "I love you too, Cath," she tells me. I smile back at her, "More than anything. Thank you… you saved my life."

"I was just returning the favor, Sara," I smile at her, placing my hand around the bandaged area on her chest from the bullet wound. "Now get some sleep, because you're going to have a long day tomorrow of sleeping ahead of you when I get you out of here. I don't want you to be tired."

She giggles and playfully swats at me with her hand, and in seconds she's sound asleep again.

Was it too late to find love, you ask? No, it wasn't, because she's sleeping right next to me right now and I'm never letting her go.

**The End**


End file.
